I don't own OUAT
No one should ever have supreme power. And yet, somehow, she did. He knew that she had gained it through using the Dark One, but little more was known about how the Queen of Hearts came to power. All that was known was that she had it, and rather than eliminating those who she considered to be threats, she liked to collect them. Killian should have been proud to have been claimed by her, but he knew well enough that he wasn't there because he could harm her. He was there as her plaything, nothing more.
He lived in a relatively nice room of her castle. It had a view of the ocean, which was at once a comfort and a torture, so close yet unattainable. The room was once a suite for visiting nobles, but as she had killed off all of the nobility, it was free for his use. She had given him two servants, though they served at her bidding, not his. It was a comfortable life, and if the door was not perpetually locked, the windows guarded, perhaps he would have been comfortable with it.
Though he only left his room when it pleased her majesty, he knew from the whispers of the servants that the rooms next to him were occupied by others of the queen's toys. Though he was the most frequently used, her highness took pleasure in having them all there, using each when convenient. There was the dragon woman, always kept in enchanted chains which bound her to her human form. She was beautiful and powerful, but it seemed the queen had broken her. The woman was known to wail at odd hours of the night, woken from her nightmares.
On the other side of him was the Dark One. Though he was pleased by the monster's weakness, having fallen to a woman, he pitied the loneliness that must have overtaken the man. It was said that after Killian's arrival, the queen had fully abandoned the Dark One, keeping him in his cage and only taking him out to show off her own infinite power. Killian knew that the Dark One was father of her majesty's first child, a girl named Regina, who the servants spoke of reverently. It seemed the girl was kinder than her mother, a thing that seemed unthinkable after being raised by such a woman.
Killian himself was father to two of the queen's children, the youngest of whom was due to be born any day now. Not that they would ever know him. Neither of the queen's children knew their fathers, and unless they thought to bribe their servants, they would never know. The servants were the most free of anyone in the castle, despite the fact that her majesty held their hearts. They were frequently ignored by the queen, and could do whatever they wanted so long as it was inconspicuous.
He heard the door's latch open and immediately came to his feet. He had retained the scars from the lessons that had taught him this respect. In the doorway was a member of the royal guard followed by a servant who carried clothing more elegant than he had ever seen. It was made of similar material to the queen's wardrobe.
"Her Majesty wishes for you to dress." The man left, his bit done, but Killian knew that he stood waiting outside the door. There was no true privacy. He allowed the servant to dress him in the finery. Once dressed, the guard led him out of the room. He dared not speak a word. They were halfway to the queen's chambers, the only path he knew in the castle, when a voice cried out. The guard drew his sword and abandoned him where he stood, darting after the source of the cry.
For the first time in many years he has his freedom, yet he did not know what to do with it. The clothes he wore were worth enough that if he could get out of the castle, he could buy passage wherever he chose. Yet he stayed where he was, frozen in the face of this opportunity. A calloused hand covered his mouth, its partner holding the blade that rested against his throat.
"Who are you?" The words were whispered in his ear by a gruff yet unmistakably female voice. The hand was removed from his mouth, and he tried to think of what to say. His name was not what she wanted, but he doubted she would appreciate his position as the Queen's lover, when she was so clearly a rebel.
"I am one of her majesty's prisoners." The woman laughed. She took the blade from him throat, appearing in front of him. She was blonde, dressed in dirty pants and a ragged blouse that had clearly been mended gain and again.
"If that is how the Queen dresses her prisoners, it's no wonder why her subjects starve." He cursed his clothing, clothing that was so well made that he no doubt looked his part. The Queen's favored one, though the position earned him nothing. He had neither power nor dignity from the arrangement. Yet he had his life and his children, facts for which he was immensely grateful.
"Any ruler would use their money and let the peasants die. She is no different." He wasn't sure why he defended her. She had captured him, trapped him at her mercy. Yet, she had also given him a son. The woman before him gave him an odd look, but she put her sword away.
"Do you know where the other prisoners are?" He nodded, leading her back to the hall where his rooms were. They started at the room on the left, the dragon woman's room. It was curiously silent there. "And the keys?"
"I don't know. Do you think they tell the prisoners how to release themselves?" The woman scowled at him but took him at his word. She went over to the door, muttering under her breath. First, she lifted the latch, and then she touched the key hole. It glowed, and the door swung open. "Bloody hell. Another witch." He moved away from her as she entered the room. Magic had done enough bad for him to trust in her.
"Help me!" The irritated sound came from within the room where he noted she had gotten the dragon woman out of her chains. However, she was unconscious, blonde curls covering the floor. He looked at the witch warily and picked up the blonde. That done, the witch smiled to herself. "Where now?" He groaned.
"Two doors down." He followed her out the door to the Dark One's room, surprised to see that the door had not been locked. The room was empty of all but a spinning wheel in the center of the room that the Dark One perched over, eyes wild and thoughtless. This was not the demon who had killed his Milah, but a creature devoid of hope. "Rumplestiltskin." The creature looked up for just a moment when his name was spoken, but just a soon, he was looking at his wheel again.
"What did you say?" The blonde woman was edging towards the Dark One who seemed to take no notice of her coming towards him. When she was within a few inches of him, the beast hissed, wild eyes turning on her to warn her away.
"His name. Best not get too close…" Despite his misgivings with the woman, he did not wish to see another die at the Dark One's hand. "He's a monster. Leave him." The woman turned to look at him, but she did not step away.
"I was told to get the prisoners out safely." Her voice was fierce, not allowing for arguments. "Rumplestiltskin." Her voice wavered, but she seemed to grow more confident when he turned to look at her.
"Emma." The Dark One said it once, then grabbed her wrist. Though she looked terrified, she did not pull away. "Emma. Emma. Emma. Emma." He repeated it again and again, tightening his grip on her wrist until the woman's fear turned to pain.
"Emma." The voice came from behind Killian, a voice he knew all too well. "How nice it is to see you." He whipped around to see his Queen, huge with their child, standing in the doorway. Despite her pregnancy, she was powerful and terrifying. "I just met up with your mother. How nice it was to finally kill Eva's brat."
The Queen spoke the words calmly, but the woman- Emma-'s face dropped immediately. She wrenched her wrist out of the Dark One's grip, drawing her sword. Her Majesty laughed, a flick of her wrist making the sword disappear. She stepped forward and Killian went to the side of the room, setting down the dragon woman and staying out of the way. He wasn't sure what he wanted to happen, but felt certain that no matter what, one of the women he saw would die.
"My darling, you don't need that. I've been told that the child of Snow White had magic. I've been aching for a good fight." A ball of fire appeared in the Queen's palm, white hot and growing. Just as she threw it, Emma launched a ball of water which put out the flames. The Queen summoned another ball, this one dark and crackling with what appeared to be lightning. This one too launched at Emma, and she dove to the side, the ball grazing her leg. She screamed, and Killian could smell the burnt flesh. She was on the ground, cradling her leg and muttering under her breath.
"You can't heal it." The Queen was mocking her, laughing at the tears falling down the girl's face. This woman couldn't have been more than eighteen years old- a child, practically. Yet Her Majesty had never cared about hurting children before. She strode closer, not bothering to gather her magic about her. The child was down, and it would just take one blow to kill her for good. The Queen's fingers lightly grazed Emma's chin, and though Emma tried to look defiant, she was pathetic in comparison to the Queen of Hearts. "Once I kill you, Eva's line will be dead. And I can finally live in peace."
She knelt, taking her time looking at the child before shoving her hand through her chest, fingers wrapping around the girl's heart. When she tried to pull it out, however, her hand stuck. Her eyes widened in horror, just as Emma shoved a dagger through her chest. Killian let out a shout, suddenly realizing that with the death of his tormentor came the death of his child. Her hand fell out of Emma's chest, and Emma pushed her aside, nursing her own wounds. Killian ran to his Queen, pulling her onto his lap without noticing her blood staining his clothes. It was a quick death, and he had just one moment with her before she- and their unborn child- were gone.
He heard feet racing down the hall as Regina found them, crying out to her brother Aidan that she needed him. The siblings entered the room, staring at their mother, dead on the floor. Their eyes darted to their fathers, perfect strangers to them, as Emma bled out behind them. The room smelled so strongly of blood that it seemed all of the air had been replaced with it. There was nothing to say.
The rebellion had failed to take over the castle, but had succeeded in taking down the Queen of Hearts. Regina took over the throne, vowing to be kinder than her mother, but fixated on eliminating all who had been involved in the killing of her. Killian's execution was planned for the day of the coronation, to show what happened to those who harmed her family. Aidan held his sister on the day, and the last thing Killian heard was his son ordering his beheading. There was no way out of this torture. But death came quickly enough, and with it, peace. He was free of this world. That was the best he could hope for.